Cole's Coronation
by Anni3
Summary: Prequel to "Fourth Time's The Charm".  Please read that title first, because this is an AU.  Pairings:  Andrue, Colebe.  COMPLETED.
1. Andy's Annotations

Andy's POV – Age 16

Today, conveniently after school, something strange happened. I knew none of the other boys were going through this type of symptom so it couldn't be puberty. I'd already passed some of the more… exciting beginnings of pubescence. I was at a loss as to why it happened.

I had been in my room doing homework, and when I got p to get a glass of water, I felt a tingling all the way down to my toes and my mind felt like it was somewhere else. I patted my chest, my stomach, and my pockets to see that I was still alive and in one piece. Satisfied but disturbed, I got my glass of water.

I decided to do the rest of my homework in front of a mirror so that if it should happen again, I might figure out what it was.

"Why are you dragging my mirror out of my room?" my mother asked.

"Because it's floor-length and helps me concentrate," I said.

"Return it in an hour," she said, obviously confused.

As it happened, an hour was plenty, because not fifteen minutes later, the tingling happened again. I looked up to see if the mirror could give me any answers. Nope, nerdy guy with too-long brown hair, and then I disappeared.

"Aah!" I tried to scream but no words came out. It was like I'd faded away right before my eyes. _Am I dying?_ I thought as I came back into view. It was like I was shaking away somewhere and then shaking back in; very creepy.

* * *

><p>I returned Mom's mirror right after that. I didn't want to see any more. I didn't dare tell her what happened, but who else could I tell? Who knows about this type of thing? Psychics? No… maybe it's some sort of freaky wizard thing? Andy the Wizard? That doesn't sound right. I only hope I don't shake like that in public. I might have to take this… one incident at a time, and just watch out for someone who could provide me with answers. Maybe I'm not the only boy going through this.<p>

* * *

><p>The next day I contemplated telling my buddy Darryl about it but couldn't find the best time or way to say it.<p>

"_Darryl, I have something creepy to tell you. I shook yesterday and disappeared."_ That would go over well.

We ended up talking about basketball because Darryl had just made the team. He wasn't a jock really, so that's why we remained friends. We often talked about what we wanted to do as adults, and he saw himself in finance. I grimaced.

"Hey, come on, even _you_ gotta admit that finance pays well." He pretended to peel back dollar bills.

"Last week you were gonna be a math teacher," I reminded him, shaking my head.

"Times change," he said, grinning. "How about you? What do you see for yourself in ten years? "

"Science teacher? At least that's better than math. Maybe I _did_ want to be a movie star two weeks ago. Times change," I mimicked.

"That's quite a jump. At least math and finance are related," said Darryl.

"I could be a science teacher in a movie," I reasoned.

It was Darryl's turn to shake his head. "I got to get to class or I ain't gonna have _any_ career."

"You ain't gonna have any career with that_ grammar_, either," I teased.

* * *

><p>Waiting for this shaking thing to be either resolved or explained to me is making me impatient.<p> 


	2. Andy's Occupation

Darryl's POV

From where I stood, Andy had a pretty normal adolescence. Dated girls just to feel a knock-off of love; got good grades for those same girls to be impressed. I kept pretty sheltered aside from basketball. We're both in our mid-twenties now and trying to figure out the real world, even though we thought we had at 16. We don't talk that much anymore. I have way different dreams for a career. I can still remember talking to Andy about finance as if it was all that. I realized in college it would take a lot of work just to stay afloat in accounting. I tried Andy's dream; acting, and it seemed to fit me for a while. Then I remembered about the real world and how much less work I'd be getting, especially in competitive San Francisco, where my parents and I moved to after high school in L.A., which is even more competitive than and not just acting.

* * *

><p>I don't usually write things down like in a journal but I <em>have<em> to this time. I ran into Andy at a local street café when I was having coffee. He introduced me to a friend he was hanging out with, Sheila. Her _eyes_, I can't even explain; her smile, man I'm gushy.

Andy said Sheila is a director of nursing at St. James'. That made me smile right away and forget about my money issues for a minute. You know how it is when you crushin'. Think about the future before it's actualized. I tried not to stare at her.

"So what do you do, Darryl?" she asked me.

"Oh, he's… what _do_ you do?" said Andy.

"I just gave up on being an actor," I found myself saying. I didn't mean to be that honest.

"Ha! Good job… no really," said Andy.

"Hey, man. I don't need you dissing me for not being a captain of everything like you," I'd said. That was not how I'd intended to sound in front of the cutest girl ever. That's how it always happens though, right? Still, Andy didn't deserve that.

"Whoa, chill," Sheila said to both of us.

"I just went back to college," I relented, trying to hide behind my coffee.

"That's cool, at least you're trying to find what you want, unlike Mr. Andy over here, who rushed into a job he hates."

"Which job is that?" I said, my confidence having returned.

Sheila had grinned again gorgeously. "Tell him," she nodded toward Andy.

Andy mumbled something.

"What was that?" Sheila laughed a beautiful chiming laugh.

"I said paralegal, leave me alone." Andy stalked off to get coffee.

Sheila chose to sit across from me then.

"He's just mad because he wishes he stayed in college," she had said to me.

"Does he want to be an attorney or just help them with research?" I asked.

"I think he's just in it for the money." Then lower, Sheila said, "He does work for a really prominent attorney though. Cole Turner?"

"Never heard of him. Of course, I don't need an attorney the way my life's going." What was _with_ all that honesty?

"Well if you do, Andy's good at his job, and could give you some pointers. He told me you used to talk a lot."

"High school," I explained.

"Sheila, is your lunch break over? Mine is," said Andy almost sadly as he walked back over with his latte.

"Yeah. Good meeting you, Darryl." Then Sheila touched my hand. I felt like a little kid; having butterflies in my stomach and wanting to do somersaults.

"Bye," was all I could manage, with a smile.

So, I just needed to write all that down; because I haven't felt that on-top-of-the-world since I was, well, 16.


	3. The Attorney

Phoebe's POV

Being a writer, and going to college for writing, one wouldn't suspect I'd be meeting a lot of lawyers. As it would happen, I met one on my way to my car after classes ended for the day. A tall, dark, and handsome man fell into step beside me. I almost smacked him with my purse but he grabbed it and didn't let go. Neither did I, and I stared him down cold. He smiled, his pearly-whites glistening. I wasn't going to be fooled, and yanked my purse back, stumbling backward because of this man's strength.

He reached out to catch my hands. I righted myself without his help and continued to my car, huffing as I went.

"Nice meeting you," he said. How strange.

I got into my car, and he was looking through my windshield at me as I started it.

"Aah! What are you _doing_?"

"Trying to start over and introduce myself," he said, grinning again.

"I don't need to be introduced to," I said back.

"Cole Turner," he said, cocking his head to the side.

"None of your business," I replied. "Now get out of my way."

He obliged, motioning with his hand that I could proceed. I tried to keep myself from flooring it on the way off campus.

* * *

><p>"Hello, everyone," I said later that evening after I'd sat doing homework and brooding in my room; wondering who this Cole guy was, but not bothering to look it up.<p>

"Hey, stranger," said Piper, taking the last few dishes from the kitchen and placing them on the table in a gorgeous spread as always.

"Does the name Cole Turner mean anything to you?" I had decided to ask my sisters after all.

"The attorney. He tried to get us to accept his watch at the auction house, but we told him no." Prue was bringing in glasses of water.

_Watch? Had I even seen him wearing a watch earlier?_ "Oh," I said simply.

"My boss says to only accept jewelry from reputable sources." Prue smirked. "It's only because he has had a bad run-in with people trying to make money we don't know. Cole's harmless."

"I wouldn't go that far," I said under my breath.

"What was that, Phoebs?" said Piper.

"I mean, it's good Cole passed the Bar."

Piper and Prue exchanged glances.

"Why were you up in your room all day?" said Prue. "I came home and I wouldn't have known you were here except for your car. That's unlike you."

"I had some thinking to do," I said.

"Less thinking, more eating. It's the night before Halloween, and I don't want to see any leftovers." Piper took the mashed potatoes as she was sitting down and dished out plenty for herself.

"What's the significance of the night before Halloween?" I asked. I'm the youngest so a lot of things were unvoiced to me that my sisters were aware of.

"Halloween of course is a special time for us. Since we're the Charmed Ones, Halloween is a time where there cannot be any food from the night before left over." Piper looked at me patiently.

"Why not? Do ghosts come and eat it?" I asked. It seemed ridiculous. Who couldn't have leftovers?

Prue cleared her throat. "Demons," she said between huge bites of green beans.

I raised my eyebrows. "Demons? Demons come into this house and eat our leftovers?" I burst out laughing.

"Halloween is when we are to fast. I don't expect you to know everything, Phoebe, since we just found out we're witches. It's a sacred tradition among the Warrens that we not have any food left over from the 30th of October because it will lead demons to this house, by the scent. You are not even aware of your power yet, which makes us vulnerable. Prue barely has a handle on astral-projection," Piper pointed out.

"When we were looking at the Book of Shadows recently we found it in purple ink, that we were to strictly have a water fast on Halloween. Demons become hyper-aware of where witches are on Halloween by the scent of food we've cooked." Prue grabbed some bread off the bread plate.

"I've never heard of anything so absurd!" I fought the urge to get up from the table.

"Look at the Book if you don't believe us," Piper said.

I decided to do just that after we had finished eating. I had taken some of Prue's chocolates she made, on the off-chance I got hungry before midnight.

In the Book it indeed said how we need to fast and how powerful demons could follow the scent of recently cooked food to witches all over the world, not just San Francisco. I remained skeptical.

Around eleven I got ready for bed, eating Prue's chocolates happily. I must have dozed off without finishing one.


	4. House Guest: Part 1

**AN: Part one of Chapter 4.**

Piper's POV

"Phoebe," I mumbled in my sleep. I heard a tapping on the siding of the Manor. I awoke with a start then, terrified that Phoebe had left out some food. In another time, I would have thought it as ridiculous as Phoebe had that evening. The tapping became urgent.

"Prue," I said louder, without putting on my bathrobe as I shot out of bed. I was sure demons wouldn't look too closely at flannel pajamas.

"What?" I heard faintly from her room.

"Demon," was all I said.

Prue was quick to join me. "Where?"

I snorted a little. "Seal slippers, Prue?"

She looked down. "So? Look, they squeak!"

Prue was demonstrating the squeakiness and I said, "Focus. De-"

I didn't get to finish because a demon _walked_ into our house. It looked human, and Prue seemed to recognize it. I froze the lamp he was throwing at us instead of him.

"That's Cole Turner," Prue managed.

The demon laughed. "Goodbye," he said, and shimmered out.

"What did you just stand there for? Do something!" I said to Prue.

"It's Cole, he's... oh. Well, attorneys are usually strange."

"It's a _demon_, Prue. Wake up. Halloween?"

We ran upstairs then, and we found Cole with his hand around Phoebe's mouth; smiling at us when we came in.

"Hey!" I said, and froze him.

He started breaking out of the freeze. I tried it again, and failed. He turned bright red over his whole body and got taller by half a foot. Then black markings appeared over his head and he went bald. He spun Phoebe around with the strength of his arm, and laughed in a deep voice.

I shot a glance at Prue, whose eyes were shut tight.

"Prue!" I shouted.


	5. House Guest: Part 2

**AN: This is the second part of Chapter 4.**

Cole's POV

I raised my eyebrows and smirked at Prue and Piper as I shimmered out with Phoebe. I immediately changed back to my Cole personality once we'd relocated to my apartment. Prue trying to astral-project was useless.

"Let me go!" Phoebe said, twisting around. Then when she was facing me, "Hey, you're the guy from-"

"Shhh..." I said. I let her go. "I protected your house from other unwanted guests. Guests that are not as lenient as I am; they'd rip you apart."

"All for a piece of chocolate Prue made? Give me a break." Phoebe slumped down on one of my easy chairs.

I chucked. "Hardly. For your _powers_."

"You know we have powers?" Phoebe gaped at me.

"Everyone knows you have powers. You're the Charmed Ones."

"How do you know that? We haven't told-"

"Phoebe, Phoebe, Phoebe. I'm Cole Turner," I said proudly, walking toward my window. "I know lots of things. Remember when I turned red?"

"That freaked me out!" she said suddenly, remembering.

Turning back around, I explained. "I'm a demon, Phoebe. Well, sort of."

"A lot of lawyers are demons," she reasoned cruelly; standing up.

"No, I mean a real one. Belthazar doesn't have a complete hold on me, but I've been this way for a long time."

"Have you always been a d-demon?" For a witch, she had trouble saying that word.

I waited a moment before answering. "No," I admitted. "I was born human. That's all I can tell you now."

She looked disappointed somehow.

"So, how would demons steal my power? I don't even know what mine is."

"Some demons are clairvoyant and can already see what it is. And they covet it all the time. I know a demon who's after it. I must stop revealing things now, it's not time yet."

"Not time yet for what? Listen buddy, you need to tell me right now who's after me," said Phoebe, shaking her finger at me.

"My apologies," I said. I took her other hand then, and started dancing with her. It was the least I could do after shimmering her out of her own home and waking her sisters up in the middle of the night.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Phoebe asked angrily, not bothering to move her feet in time with mine.

"The waltz of course."

Phoebe rolled her eyes in a dramatic fashion and glared at me.

"All in time, my dear."

"Dear? Is that what you call your victims before you eat them?"

I smiled. "I don't eat people, Phoebe. I just steal their money. Lawyer."

Phoebe _growled_ at me. "For a demon, you're really frustrating. What are your motives?"

"Dancing with a lovely woman, at the moment. I'll get you back to your sisters' soon. You are an excellent dance partner, by the way." I flashed a grin.

"Waltzing with a demon, there's a new one," mumbled Phoebe.

"Waltzing with a lawyer, there's a smart one," I said, smiling again.

I shimmered us out a few minutes later, hugging Phoebe at the end of our dance.


	6. The Paralegal

Prue's POV

I was still standing with my eyes closed trying to astral-project out of the house, to see if there were any other demons around, and to figure out if I could go to where Cole was. I couldn't do either, and so opened my eyes after Piper kept screaming at me.

"I tried astral-projecting," I explained. The telephone rang then. I ran over to it.

"Just a minute," said Piper, but I already had started to retrieve it.

A man spoke. "I'm a paralegal," he said shyly. "Andy Trudeau with Attorney Cole Turner's office. We got a call saying someone was murdered at this address."

"Murder?" Piper said incredulously, eavesdropping.

"You must be mistaken," I said to Paralegal Andy Trudeau innocently. "No one's been vanqui-murdered here… tonight."

"A false alarm of murder?" Andy sounded dubious.

"Yes," I said. "It would have to be. How did you get this number anyway?"

"A woman called not too long ago saying she thought someone was being murdered at your address. She wanted me to confirm it before calling the police. I called the police anyway and now I'm speaking to you in case you need representation."

"Pig! Why would you solicit over the phone like this? My sister was screaming at me, that's all. Why would you call the cops about something like that?"

He paused on the other end of the line. "Noise ordinance," he said calmly.

I hung up.

"What a quack!" I said, frustrated. "He obviously made the whole thing up. Cole Turner's office… I bet he doesn't even work at Cole Turner's office."

"Maybe he made the part about the police up… I don't hear sirens," said Piper matter-of-factly.

"Since when do paralegals call your _house_?" I said.

"Looked your number up in the phone book because he's bored?" Piper guessed.

"Ugh," I said. "I'm going back to bed."

Piper smiled. "I think you might like him," she said. "The sound of his voice, the fact that he's playing games with you. Plus he called in the middle of the night." Piper raised her eyebrows and laughed.

"Be quiet and go to bed," I said, grinning back. We both went upstairs then, and I playfully hit Piper with one of her pillows before retiring to my own room.

I couldn't sleep immediately. I started to think about my day; how Phoebe was somewhere with Cole, what Andy had said to me. I heard a knock on my door just as I was about to drift off.

"Cole's a nice demon," Phoebe said, opening the door and smiling. "He brought me back… we danced together, too."

"Phoebe, can we talk in the morning?" I said. "I have work tomorrow. Good for dance…" and then I was out.


	7. The Boy Next Door

Dan's POV

I woke up on Halloween morning way too early… never mind that I had to get up to work eventually anyway. I was wondering why I heard screaming in the middle of the night from the Halliwell's. _I just moved in next door a week ago… what kind of welcome was this?_

I put on my clothes, and right as I was about to go next door to see what was up, I thought I heard Prue yell the word "Pig". I listened for a minute then everything quieted down again. I wondered if I should go back to bed or just stay up. I decided on the latter, and went to my kitchen to make coffee. I turned the light on and looked out the window as the coffee was brewing to see if there were any cops outside. Negative. Maybe someone called the cops already at any rate, I figured. Piper sure can scream…

It was too early for the morning paper to come, so I settled on reading the back of a cereal box, without making the cereal. I would eat in a while; there was a bagel in the cupboard with my name on it. All the food in the house had my name on it; I had to relocate alone for my job as a construction contractor. Maybe I could soundproof the Halliwell's, I reasoned. I had seen a guy around after I moved in and he sometimes had a toolbelt, but I figured that didn't mean anything. _Anyone can wear a toolbelt, but do they know what they're doing? I could soundproof the walls better probably. I don't know if he's just a friend of theirs or something more. _I went back to reading the cereal box.

After I'd read all the nutrition facts, I got ready for work: shaved, showered (in that order), ate the bagel with butter, and was out the door to my pickup by dawn. While I was grabbing the paper, there was no sign of that guy who'd been hanging around, which made me more comfortable. I switched on the radio and opera blared in my ears.

"Yuck," I said, and switched it to rock, turning it down a little. On today's list was a paint job at a law office. I had learned to not judge people's paint color choices, instead just confirming that was the color they wanted, and completing the job in a reasonable amount of time. I had picked up the paint the previous day, so all I had to do is drive over to the law office directly.

Once there, I found a pretty secretary at the front desk and identified myself. "Dan Gordon," she said, looking at her computer screen. "Right," she said. "Let me check to see if Cole's office is ready for you. It'll be the first door on your left down this hallway." She pointed with her ballpoint pen.

Picking up the phone, she spoke to someone on the other line then nodded to me before replacing the receiver.

"Thank you," I said, pausing to look at her name plate. "Elise Rothman," I finished.

I took my folded drop cloths, painter's tape and a gallon of paint back to where she specified. I took a second trip to go out to my truck and get the roller and paint pans. A spacious unoccupied office greeted me both times. Covering the floor with my drop cloths, I got to work taping the trim along the bottom of the walls.


	8. Negligent Newspaper

Andy's POV

I hung up the phone a little surprised. I knew what I was doing was somewhat illegal… calling a girl in the middle of the night wanting Cole to represent her if she was in trouble. I had heard about Prue from Darryl, actually. She used to be in his accounting class at college. I figured it was worth calling so I could get to know her, but having her call me a pig dashed some of those hopes.

She seemed interesting from the little I heard about her from Darryl. Smart and studious… my kind of girl. I smiled to myself as I emptied out my now-cold coffee into a potted plant in my tiny office. Cole didn't really like plants anyway, I decided, and put my coat on.

After arriving back at my apartment in the Bay Area, I slumped down on the worn couch. I looked around me; at the studio apartment that I should have been able to move from on a paralegal's salary. I hadn't bothered to turn on the light when I got in, and drifted off to a fitful sleep on my couch.

Bleary-eyed, I awoke to birds chirping outside. It was still relatively dark outside; I'd bet about five in the morning. I stood up, realized I hadn't even taken my shoes or coat off, and walked slowly into the bathroom to start my morning routine. Brush teeth, shower, grab a nice shirt and slacks and start off for my job.

Cole wasn't in his office when I knocked at seven. I asked Elise, the secretary, where he was and she said he'd come in extra early to catch up on some things, but had gone to breakfast. I decided to do the same and walked to a local bakery for some coffee cake. I needed to treat myself after how last night went.

"Cherry coffee cake and a cola," I said to the clerk. I wasn't sure which would kill me first; the sugar or the caffeine. I reminded myself that this was a treat, and felt better. Getting back to the law office, I went into my closet of a workspace and shut the door. Files were strewn everywhere; the result of being overworked. I sighed and sorted some of the folders on my desk. An article lay on top of everything else that I'd never seen before.

"Mystery at Bay Area Home," the article said in big black letters. It was from today's Metro section. I skimmed it, my eyes widening. _Halliwell_, I thought. That's Prue's last name…

On a hunch, I called Cole's cell phone number to see if he knew anything about it. He didn't pick up. The article had mentioned that sometime during the night, a woman had disappeared from the Halliwell house only to reappear. I decided to call the newspaper then and see how they got their information. Media sometimes didn't get their information from reputable sources, and part of my job was to check that angle.

"Bay Mirror, Leslie St. Claire," a man answered.

"Yes, I'm Andy Trudeau from Attorney Cole Turner's office and I have a question about an article in today's Metro section. 'Mystery at Bay Area Home'?"

"You've called the right place," Leslie told me. "Look at the By line." I looked. Leslie had written the article.

"Great! Look Leslie, I need to know who your source is for this article. It's official," I lied.

"Official, huh? And call me Les." Les paused.

Taking this pause as an opportunity, I said calmly, "Yes, Cole Turner's very concerned and he wants to know when and where you got your information. Judging by the article, this incident happened only a few hours ago. You must have a good informant?" I fished.

"… I really can't discuss this over the phone," Les said. "Do you have just cause? Or a subpoena?"

_Subpoena! Had Les been subpoenaed before for having lousy informants?_

Not missing a beat, "Yes. The cause is that the people that occupy that house might be in danger and the police are sniffing around about it," I replied, smoothly lying again.

"The police?" he said. "I haven't heard anything."

_Dang_, I thought. _Busted_. "Well," I started again, "they will be sniffing around and our office can help keep you out of hot water. How 'bout that source?"

"I already have an attorney," Les said, and hung up.

I replaced the phone on the cradle. Sighing, I drank my cola and thought about what to do next. I had found some useful information… Les was definitely hiding something. When Cole returned, I would be there to tell him what I'd learned.


	9. The Secretary

Elise's POV

The man that came to paint Cole's office was definitely attractive. I knew it wasn't my business to ask whether he was single, so I didn't. I had been working in Cole's office since it had opened a few months earlier. He wanted someone for the secretary position and he seemed to like me for it, upon interviewing me very briefly. I was surprised at how easily he seemed to accept me, but I was eager for a job.

I had had a prestigious career with the Bay Mirror but I got passed over for my biggest promotion when a guy named Leslie St. Claire got promoted instead. It was the principle of the thing; I resigned soon after. Plus I wasn't the hugest fan of how Leslie ran things over there.

Cole Turner gave me very generous raises and vacation days, so I didn't ask too many questions about some of his more… interesting clients. Andy Trudeau seemed happy with his job as a paralegal with us, too. He was a little excessive with the coffee, perhaps, but after all, I didn't have to do half the research he did.

As if planned, Andy walked in then with coffee and a few treats for me, too.

"Andy, you didn't need to-"

"Elise, eat it. I know you like doughnuts. Cole in?"

"No, he's out, and he's getting his office painted as we speak."

Recognition flashed across Andy's face. "I forgot," he said, turning away from the direction of Cole's office and going toward his own.

I smiled down at my jelly doughnut. _Maybe just one bite._

* * *

><p>Cole returned about two hours later.<p>

"Any calls?" he asked, smiling at me.

I noticed his tie was looking particularly… silkier than when he'd first arrived.

Smiling back I said, "No, Mr. Turner. The painter, Dan Gordon, left about ten minutes ago, though."

"Thank you," he said, heading back to his office. I could hear the phone ringing from within when he opened the door.

"Hi, Andy…" I heard him say, and I returned to drawing up invoices.

The rest of the work day was like others, and I left around three to get some groceries for making dinner that night. I had decided on spaghetti with vegetables and meatballs; I knew my kids would appreciate the extra effort. They almost worked longer hours than I did, if I were to include homework, and some days this past week I'd been too tired to cook a full-on meal. I vaguely wondered whether the painter, Dan Gordon, would mind children. The thought left my mind when I realized how full the supermarket parking lot was. I focused on getting the ingredients and was out of there as soon as possible.

My kids were thrilled to see my grocery bags and helped put some of the food away.

"Chocolate pudding cups!" my nine-year-old Sienna said excitedly, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"You may have one after dinner," I said, smiling back, and hefting a bottle of spaghetti sauce out of one of the bags.

"Goodie!" she said, scampering off to finish the last bit of her homework before dinner. I had tried to instill in her how important getting things done efficiently was. She groaned some days because she wanted to watch television instead, but I said that if she got her homework done now, the less she'd be up too late or early the next morning finishing it. That got her attention and she had taken my advice pretty well. My boy, Tanner, was fifteen and even more of a handful finishing his freshman year at Dillon Heights High. As far as homework, he'd rather stay at school late with his buddies… not being on task. I knew when he had turned 13 that I would need to take a different tack with him.

"Tanner," I had started out saying, "hanging out with your friends is fine, but only after homework."

"Mom, no one does their homework on Fridays," he'd objected. "Ask Sienna," he challenged.

"Honey, you're just about to go to high school. There will be less time for friends if you don't do your homework early. Trust me."

He'd brushed me off, and I'd let him. Now, with him almost a sophomore, I needed to take a firmer stance.

After the groceries were put away and it was just about time to put the spaghetti into the boiling water, I asked to see Tanner in the kitchen. He was playing a game on his handheld video game console in the dining room.

He walked over, still playing the game. "What's up?" he asked, not looking at me.

"I need you to look at me," I said gently. He looked at me with his big brown eyes, his freckled face still boyishly cute, with some stubble showing through on his chin. I sighed as I realized what a resemblance to his father he had.

"Tanner," I said, breaking the spaghetti up and putting it in the water, "we need to talk about your homework situation. I know—please don't roll your eyes at me—I know that you are fine with getting your work done whenever as long as it's before the due date, or a little late, but you're in high school."

"I know, Mom."

I took a deep breath. "Your sister has already started looking at what you do and how you act. If you continue to slack off, she might think it's acceptable to do that too."

"Sienna's Miss Perfect, she won't slack," he reasoned. "Can I get back to my game now?"

"Try to start on your homework thirty minutes before you normally would this week, and see if it makes a difference; in how you feel, how you organize your time. If it doesn't change anything, then you can go back to your current system."

He shrugged, and went back to the dining room and his game.


	10. The Recruit

Tanner Rothman's POV

I want there to be a written record of what happens to me, in case I die. Mr. Turner has given me strict instructions not to tell anyone about what I'm doing for him. If I die, I want my mom to know I love her, and I'm doing this so we can have a better quality of life. I met Mr. Turner in his law offices a couple of times before I was recruited; only because my mom works there. He said he saw something special in me for one of his projects. I asked him, "Aren't I too young?"

"No, you're perfect for the job," he said.

"Job? Like I'd be paid?"

"Absolutely. You're one in a million, kid."

I grinned shyly at that. Every person wants to be told something like that; to feel like someone in authority respects them. I asked what I would have to do, and he said that there would be some training involved before the big project got underway.

"What kind of training?" I said.

He smiled and said he'd have me start the following week, and that it wasn't going to be too much to handle. He looked at me seriously when he said, "School is important, but training is going to be as crucial if you're as up to the task as I think you are."

I took it at face value and accepted the challenge. True to his word, Mr. Turner gave me a handheld gaming console, which I looked at skeptically. "Games? I thought you said training…"

"It is training," Mr. Turner said. "Training the mind… You can't do physical combat if you're mind isn't strong first."

* * *

><p>My mom was starting the spaghetti the following day. I had already turned on the gaming console after school to see what it was all about. It was a series of very well-done mental games about what I would do in certain situations. If faced with an opponent, would I fight or run away? What tactics would I use? What if I had no weapons? I got so into it I barely heard my mom ask me a question.<p>

"Tanner, you need to come home right after school and do your homework, blah blah blah…" which I knew, but the games were so enticing, and the _money_ I would make. I didn't know how much it would be yet, but I was hooked.

Mr. Turner wanted me to come to his office at lunchtime one day, which was not allowed for sophomores, but he gave an excuse, said he was my father and there was an emergency. I almost wish he was my father, he's so cool. Haha, that would mean my name would be Tanner Turner. My real father left us when Mom was pregnant with my sister.

When Mr. Turner picked me up from school, he checked again that I hadn't told anyone about the project. "No," I said honestly. Who would believe me anyway?

My mom wasn't at the front desk when we got to his law office, which was okay with me. Mr. Turner showed me into his office, and my eyes got huge. It had the coolest view ever! Of the entire Bay Area! I could even see my high school. Other than that it was empty and smelled like fresh paint. "Where do you do your work?" I asked.

"That's not important right now," he said. "This is where you will do _your_ work; your training. Look at the view while I get a few things ready."

I tried to look for my house out the window, but couldn't find it.

"Okay, then," he said, coming back in. "Here are your gloves, to keep. And here's what you hit with the gloves." He gave me fire-engine red boxing gloves, and he held up a thick mat with straps of the same color.

"Now, have you ever boxed?" he said. "What you do is hit this mat I'm holding up with your gloved hands. Always keep your hands up to your face. Never let an opponent hit you in the face. You'll go down sooner. Put your fist straight out toward the mat, and bring it back to your face before you hit with the other hand. Always alternate."

He was probably being sarcastic with what he first asked, because even though I play soccer for fun, I am generally kind of scrawny.

* * *

><p>This type of boxing lesson went on for a few weeks, always either way before school or after school, any time when Mom wasn't there. It would be super weird, I figured, to practice boxing in Mr. Turner's office when Mom was just a few feet away answering phone calls. We moved onto "kickboxing", which I found out was basically the same as before only with using your legs. Also he taught me to bob and weave so that if an opponent tried to hit me, I would be moving all over the place so fast that they would be less likely to succeed. It became fun, and I got physically stronger all the time. Plus, Mr. Turner gave me different cartridges for the game console so that I was always learning new ways of defending myself; like with weapons.<p>

I eventually met Andy; he didn't really like being called Mr. Trudeau. I secretly thought of him as Andy Truffle, because he seemed to always have a coffee cake or some sort of doughnut.

My mom seemed worried that I wasn't coming home after school until late.

"I'm getting my homework done, look." I showed her all my homework, completed. I was tired from school and training, but Mr. Turner had said that school was important too, so I made myself excel at that, too.

"You look big," was my sister's remark one night.

I showed off my biceps and said, "I'm getting stronger."

* * *

><p>"You're training is complete, Tanner." Those great words came from Mr. Turner one day when my training was done for the day, kickboxing and learning with weapons.<p>

I grinned. "Really? We can start the project?"

"Yes. We start tomorrow, Saturday."

I was so excited I felt like jumping up and down, but I was very tired.


	11. Mirror Inflection

**AN: For whatever reason, sometimes I cannot get the page breaks to show up in the live preview...so bare with that, please.**

Phoebe's POV

It was very strange dancing with Cole that one night. I'm glad he dropped me off safely at home though. Prue said I had a glow I hadn't had in a while. I hadn't danced or shimmered in a long while either, maybe that's why. Shimmering is a very unusual experience. It's… surreal. I was dancing with Cole and then we shivered and everything went silver, hence the word shimmer. Like "shi(ver)-mm(er)" Then I was with Cole in my house, and then he shimmered out. It must be exhausting for him to do that all day. He's much more used to it than I am, granted.

I do know he's an attorney, but I don't know why he has this…what did he call it? Beltannia? Bohemian? No, that can't be it. He's not bohemian at all. His Beltannia doesn't really seem that scary. I definitely like him; or maybe it's just his looks. Piper and Prue could definitely attest to my liking men based mostly on their looks… sometimes.

I'm getting a phone call; just a minute, diary.

* * *

><p>"This is Phoebe."<p>

"Cole Turner," that handsome voice came.

"Oh! Hello."

"Listen, Phoebe, you're in danger now. I need you to go from your house to the college and stay there."

"Wha-why?" I could hear car screeching in the background.

"The demon I told you about who wants your power. I'm serious."

"It's Saturday, Cole. No one's going to be there except people over-studying."

"Phoebs, trust me. I know, for a lawyer, that's a stretch, but I need you to take my word for it this time."

"Okay, Cole," I said, sighing. "I'm on my way."

"Thanks, bye."

Not even waiting for me to say goodbye… I figured he was really serious and left right then. _I_ actually was going to be one of those over-studying; for journalism. Who knew paper-writing about the television news would take so much time to do well?

* * *

><p>Settling in at the library, I tried to focus on getting different book references on television news. I appreciate that my college requires at least one book reference in paper bibliographies. Sure, the Internet is a great fast way to get information, but books somehow seem more relevant and accurate for some subjects.<p>

My assignment was to take a television news story and unpack it and write about the percentage of time talked about news and how much time was taken up by "info-tainment": stuff that was sort of informative, but about celebrities or other entertainment things… and whether that was just filler for the last few minutes or whether it actually meant something.

I kept getting side-tracked thinking about the demon Cole had warned me about. What was the power being coveted? How much time did I have before this demon caught up with me? I actually started typing "Beltannia" instead of the reporter "Brokaw" because I was so distracted.

"Hey, Phoebe," a voice beside me said. I jumped.

"Aah!" A short burst of screaming was my new way of being startled now, I guess.

"Relax, it's just me," said, of all people, Andy Trudeau. Dressed in a white button-down and nice black slacks; he sat down next to me. "Look, you're majoring in journalism, right?"

"Yes," I said, semi-warily.

"You're in a college library, where there are bound to be law books."

"Correct…" I said, having no idea where this was leading.

Smiling, he casually remarked, "I know _I'm_ the paralegal, but I'm swamped at the moment, so could you do a little favor for me and look up newspaper etiquette of reporters?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"See, there's this little, hmmm, hiccup, at the law office, and I need someone who knows more about journalism than I do to check up on certain rules." He paused for breath. "Hypothetically, does a reporter have to tell a law office where they got their information; and is the law office able to get that information without a subpoena?"

"Does this 'hypothetical' situation involve the 'police' and am 'I' going to get in trouble?" I asked.

He _laughed_ at me. "Of course not; Cole needs some help, that's all. You would like to help Cole, wouldn't you?"

I sighed deeply. This was the second, almost _diversion_ I had been given today. I was becoming skeptical that any of this was founded on anything other than Distract Phoebe.

"Yes," I said at length. "I want to help Cole."

Andy grinned widely. "Thank you so much, Phoebe. It will mean a lot to Cole, too."

With that, he got up and left.

I decided that my television paper was a little more urgent, and finished that before going on this fishing expedition for "newspaperman etiquette."

What I found, after a long while, was that newspapers didn't have to reveal their sources if they weren't required by law… in other words; they didn't have to spill the beans without a warrant. I knew Andy wouldn't want to hear that. I already knew that although it is customary for newspapers to site their sources anyway, if it was a family tragedy and the paper talked with a "source close to the family", they didn't need to name them. The classic example of this is when a source chooses to remain anonymous.

So, the thing I could tell Andy is to get a warrant. I have no idea what it related to. I decided that since the library didn't close for a while, I could ask for the last month's worth of newspapers. I could do a little snooping, right?

"Excuse me; do you have a place where I could look at all the last month's newspapers?"

The librarian smiled and pointed to a part of the library that had newspapers, but they were unfolded and had a big metal tube attached to each of them so they couldn't be taken out of the library or ripped or anything.

I decided to start with the Bay Mirror, even though they are one of the most reputable in the area. _Anything's possible_, I thought. I painstakingly went through Business and Living of October, then stopped cold when I saw the Metro section of October 31st. _How could I not know about this_? A Leslie St. Claire had written the article, and it had a picture of the front of our house. The article stated that someone had disappeared from our house and then reappeared. That would be **me**. What was going on? How did Andy know about it? Did Cole tell anyone? Did someone see through a window into our house? Spying on us? _Okay, calm down, Phoebe_. I decided to call Piper, since I didn't know when I would be home. Would Cole tell me when _that_ was okay?

"Piper, listen to me. I can't talk long… did you see the Mirror on October 31st?"

"Phoebe, I'm kinda busy right now. The mirror?"

"The Bay Mirror. Metro." I was beginning to get irritated.

"We don't take that paper, Phoebe. You know that." Piper, too, was getting an edge to her voice.

"We're _in_ it, oh never mind!" I decided hanging up and calling the Mirror itself would be more useful.

* * *

><p>"Bay Mirror, Leslie St. Claire. Can I help you?"<p>

"You little snot, you listen to me right now," I said in a stiff whisper. "You-" I decided threatening him would do no good. Starting again, "I have reason to believe you illegally used a picture of my house in an article you wrote in October."

I could hear faint chuckling. "Oh, really? And how's that?"

"You didn't get my permission. You wrote without asking." Here I faltered. I tried again. "I'm with Cole Turner's office and I have a warrant." Technically we were dating, and technically if I could I would have a warrant, so there.

"Cole Turner's office again," Leslie Snot Claire said. "I would like to hear probable cause."

"You _probably caused_ some damage to innocent citizens." I hung up. Man, am I a wimp.

Well, at least by his attitude, I knew Leslie St. Claire actually wrote it, and that eventually I'd have some leverage. If only I knew a cop… Do cops give things up for auction at Prue's work?**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>I eventually got the go-ahead from Cole that I could return home and everything was safe. I felt like saying nothing was safe, but did I really want Cole to know?<p> 


	12. No Room for Nervousness

Andy's POV

It was specifically Cole's request that _Phoebe_ do the digging for Leslie St. Claire's involvement with the newspaper story. That way no one would suspect him. I know by now Cole was the one who came up with the idea, and it of course was me who tipped Leslie off.

I don't know how much everyone else knows about my arrangement with Cole. I hope no one knows yet because it would ruin both of us. He knows I've shimmered since adolescence.

I will burn this once I write it because I've sworn myself to secrecy. Cole, Tanner, and I have been working on a "project". I don't think Tanner knows that I'm working with Cole, but that's just as well. Cole has been helping me harness my shimmering and make it more fluid, instead of having it come and go in spurts.

"It's all a matter of concentration. If you want something enough, you'll concentrate on getting it with all your might. For the sake of my—_this_ project, you want to learn how to shimmer properly, correct?" Cole's face was grave.

"Yes, of course," I had responded.

Cole has designated his office as Tanner's training space and only other really special occasions, so I practiced the mind exercises Cole gave me in my own office. Cole doesn't use his office for clients or anything else anymore except things relating to the project. I know, Elise thinks that she's booking appointments and all that stuff, which she sort of is, but they're actually part of the project. I feel a little guilty about that, but Cole hasn't brought it up, so I tend to take it like it is. I wouldn't dare tell her, she might quit. She _undoubtedly_ would quit; if she knew what the project entailed.

It involves her _son_, so I could see how that could anger **anyone**. Eventually Tanner will know everything that he's part of. I'd rather hold off until absolutely necessary. I'm not sure if he's aware of the danger he's facing or not. Any venture below ground is going to be very treacherous. I've made the trip with Cole once, and it is not pleasant. That's part of what I've added to my mind exercises; getting used to the idea of going down there more often, which I will have to do.

* * *

><p>"Relax," Cole had said, turning into Belthazor.<p>

"I'm trying," I said, while shaking like a leaf. "I'm just worried-"

"Remember who's with you? You'll come back safe." He paused. "I'm a lawyer," he added with a sly grin.

That helped a little, but the experience of going underground was one that under any other circumstance I wouldn't wish on anybody. This is what I'd been preparing for, and I did want to complete the project, so we shimmered out of Cole's office. After the silver settled, I was a little more comfortable. There were torches, but no hellfire all around.

"Ah, Belthazor," said _Dan Gordon_? My eyes widened.

"Quit your day job?" was all I could muster.

Smiling, he said merely, "Did you? No, and you're here too, Andy."

"Hey, I'm no demon," I retorted.

Smirking, he continued, "We've received word that the recruit will be here within the next few days… or, nights, as it is down here."

"That's accurate," said Cole.

"Excellent," said Dan. "I will let everyone else know it is confirmed."

Too overwhelmed to speak, I stood there gaping during the entire exchange.

"Both Mr. Trudeau and the recruit are ready for all that is required of them." Cole stood tall.

Dan nodded. "Step into my Conference Room."

In a daze, I followed Cole into the "Conference Room" which looked just like the space we had exited; only there were demon Elders, if I could call them that, standing in a circle.

"You know how it will happen, Belthazor, but I want to give Andy a head's up. There is no room for nervousness of any kind once everything gets started. When the recruit arrives, we will all gather at this spot, and Belthazor will of course be in the center of the circle. Now Andy, you play an important part, because you will get the recruit out of here if _something_… happens."

* * *

><p>This next bit is something I am ashamed of even writing about, because I am ashamed it happened. I could have done more.<p>

Cole wanted to make a show of picking Tanner up from Elise's house for her benefit, and that was my cue to go over to the college library where Phoebe would be. There was an actual danger for Phoebe, because as I later found out, Dan Gordon, who is clairvoyant, wanted her power. It's retro-reanimation; which is, of course, highly coveted and covered up. She doesn't know it yet, and that makes her especially vulnerable. Not a lot is known about it in general.

At any rate, after I left her at the library, I shimmered to the Conference Room, where Cole and Tanner were waiting.

"Good to see you again, Andy," Dan Gordon had said. "Now the Coronation can begin."

"Coro-" Tanner started.

"Belthazor, please come to the center of the circle," said Gordon.

We watched as Belthazor complied. One of the Elders clad in blue handed him a scepter with a gigantic ruby on the top.

"Rein Intripnol Haiopl" said everyone around the circle except me and Tanner. Belthazor turned into Cole, and a black flash came from the entire scepter.

Tanner was pushed backwards by it, and I ran over as fast as possible and out we shimmered. We were back in Cole's office, and somehow I had shimmered out Dan Gordon as well. I stared for a moment. I checked Tanner's pulse. I didn't really care about Dan Gordon's pulse, but I checked it anyway. Nothing happened.

Feeling guilt, shame, and a sense of urgency, I walked as casually as I could out of the office and toward the front desk. I had to call Elise and tell her at least _part_ of what happened.

"Elise? Hi, this is Andy Trudeau. There's been an accident…No, not a car accident. Tanner, your son, was… I mean, he's dead. I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>I hung up the phone as she started shouting at me. Elise will quit, Leslie St. Claire will lose his job... Cole will deal with it later, after the rest of the Coronation Ceremony. He <em>has<em> to deal with it; clean everything up, lie, do whatever he can. As disgusted as I am with myself, Cole is now responsible for me, and more than I can even fathom. I am going to still learn from him; how to develop my shimmering further. He's The Source now, and I'll do anything else he needs.


End file.
